Sex Dolls of the SS

“The field was full of inflatable women – the Captain told us to fix bayonets and run every one of them through, as they were dangerous German infiltrators,” recalls pensioner John Crimmage who, in 1944, as a seventeen year old Home Guard member, found himself abruptly thrust into the front line of the battle against Hitler’s most deadly secret weapons. “A lot of the blokes were in tears – most of us were either too young to have ever seen a real naked woman, or too old to remember what they looked like. Now, we found ourselves facing literally acres of bare breasts and being told to burst them with our bayonets! It just didn’t seem right!” The young private’s reservations were quickly dispelled. “Jimmy Clittwen from the butcher’s lost it completely – he tore off his clothes and leapt onto the nearest woman,” he explains. “as soon as his John Thomas entered her, there was this huge explosion – all that was left of Jimmy were his smouldering boots.” Crimmage’s recollections come in a new book, which claims to have uncovered the last great untold story of World War Two – a tale of how a Nazi army of exploding rubber women nearly brought Britain to its knees. “They rained down on Britain by the thousand – dropped by Luftwaffe bombers,” claims Donald Bloward, author of Sex Dolls of The SS. “They came in all shapes and sizes – blondes, brunettes, redheads; petite, busty, skinny arsed and wide-bottomed. Something to cater for all tastes!” With sex strictly rationed in wartime Britain, desperate British males were powerless to resist the charms of the rubber temptresses and fell upon them with glee. “Two hanjobs and one full sexual intercourse a month was all that every adult Briton was allowed – the government feared that too much exertion would leave soldiers and workers exhausted, undermining the war effort,” says Bloward. “With blow jobs and self pleasuring suspended for the duration, hundreds of compliant rubber women floating down from the sky seemed like a Godsend!” The first recorded casualty was an RAF Flying Officer who came upon one of the fiendish devices during the blackout, whilst on a weekend pass in London. Incredibly, he survived the encounter. “She was this gorgeous redhead – all magnificent cleavage and legs. She just sort of bumped into me as I was on my way back to my billet,” he later told a Board of Inquiry. “She seemed a bit light on her feet, but I just assumed she’d been on the gin. I thought my luck was in, as she didn’t object as I dragged her into a nearby alleyway and started feeling her up. As I touched her nipples there was this blinding flash and I was thrown against the wall of the alley.” Luckily for the young bomb aimer, the rubber woman had misfired, only the detonator in her breasts exploding.

Incredibly, the rubber sex bombs weren’t originally intended to be used as weapons, having been developed to meet the sexual needs of SS soldiers serving on the Eastern Front. “The Fuhrer didn’t want our finest examples of Aryan manhood risking disease and impotence by consorting with racially inferior local prostitutes. So he personally ordered the development of the most lifelike sex dolls ever produced,” says Dr Claus von Stuffer, the last surviving member of the team which created the dolls of death. “Besides, we didn’t have any enslaved whores to spare – our decadent ruling classes had rounded up every available attractive young woman in the occupied territories and imprisoned them in castle dungeons to be subjected to hideous tortures. Forcing them to have sex with gorillas, freezing them in ice, whipping and branding them – these guys had already committed so many depravities, this sort of bizarre sexual torture was apparently the only way they could get it up.” Von Stuffer and his colleagues were first alerted to the destructive potential of their creations when, in early 1942, the first consignment was deployed to an SS Panzer division in Russia. “Within a few hours three tanks had been completely destroyed by internal explosions, and ten more seriously damaged,” he explains. “It transpired that, in an act of sabotage, slave workers at the factory had filled the inflatable ladies with highly flammable hydrogen gas instead of air.” Forced by the sub-zero temperatures of the Russian winter to make love to the dolls in the confined quarters of their tanks, the crews’ post-coital cigarettes had inevitably ignited the rubber women. “Obviously, every slave worker at the factory was shot and their families sent to concentration camps,” says von Stuffer. “But their sacrifice wasn’t in vain, as they inspired us to develop the perfect secret weapon to use against the British and Americans. We convinced the Fuhrer that, by deploying an army of exploding counterfeit women against them, we would be able to destroy the Allies through their own decadent sexual cravings.” However, before the first dolls were dropped on Britain, the scientists spent months making them ever more realistic. “We were particularly proud of their breasts – even the most experienced groper would have found it impossible to tell them from the real thing! They were even warm to the touch,” he chuckles. “Of course, my field of expertise was the buttocks. It took many months in the lab to perfect the right degree of wobble in them when they were slapped!”

Casualties mounted rapidly in the UK, as hundreds of the devil dolls were dropped on a nightly basis. “It wasn’t just British servicemen who were falling for them, large numbers of Yanks were falling foul of their evil charms, too,” says Bloward. “The GIs reckoned the dolls were more animated than real British women, not to mention having better teeth.” The British authorities quickly realised that the dolls’ detonators were located in their nipples and issued instructions that, as a general precaution, suspect women should only be taken from behind, with all gropings confined to their buttocks. Consequently, by the end of 1943 fatalities had declined to virtually nil. The German response was swift. “Those early models were quite crude, with over-sensitive and too obvious detonators,” recalls von Stuffer. “For the next generation we decided to vary the detonator position – some had them in the anus, some in the vagina, others in the mouth. That way, changing technique would be no defence!” When the new models started appearing in Britain in early 1944, casualties once again soared. Nobody, it seemed, was safe from the threat of the exploding women. “The fiends even managed to get one into Winston Churchill’s private rooms at Downing Street,” reveals Bloward. “An aide walked in to find the Prime Minister with it across his knee, about to give it a spanking. Luckily, he recognised it as a Type VII, with detonating buttocks, and shouted a warning to Churchill.” Unfortunately, the surprised Premier dropped his cigar into the cleft of the doll’s buttocks. “Thankfully, it only ignited the hydrogen, leaving Churchill with minor burns and no eyebrows,” says Broward. “But the whole incident just emphasised the fact that there was no effective defence against these inflatable women.” Indeed, the rain of blow-up women only began to decline after the Allied invasion of France in the Summer of 1944. With Britain now out of range of their bombers, the Germans resorted to delivering the dolls by V-2 rockets, instead. The threat was only eliminated when a team of specially-selected British commandos raided the secret factory in Norway which produced the dolls. “I just thank God for the prevalence of homosexuality in Britain’s armed forces,” comments Bloward. “They’d never have been able to resist the dolls’ charms, otherwise.”

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Publisher, Executive Editor and Chief Writer of The Sleaze, the Doc is in the forefront of the campaign to preserve historic 1970s moustaches, and is currently the owner of a fine 1970 Alain Delon, which he wears with pride every Thursday. Before founding The Sleaze, the Doc had the singular honour of being dismissed from the Ministry of Defence's Defence Intelligence Staff following his involvement with the original 'dodgy dossier', which sparked the civil war in the former Yugoslavia. Nevertheless, he stands by his controversial assessment that there is satellite imagery clearly showing Serbian leader Slobodan Milosevic enjoying a three-in-a-bed romp with Princess Margaret and Richard Branson. Following his dismissal, the Doc crossed the Atlantic to enter the film industry, where he quickly became Tawny Kitaen's pubic hair stylist. The proud possessor of the world's largest collection of pornography discovered in hedgerows, the Doc is considered one of Britain's leading experts on smut, and acted as an advisor to the BBC 4 series A Pornographic History of Britain. Now in his early middle years, Doc Sleaze lives quietly in Southern England where he is sometimes allowed to teach Government and Politics to local A-level students. He can be reached through the site's main e-mail address - just don't expect a reply.